AtLA Land Shorts
by Cadence
Summary: A collection of shorter fic I have written in response to AtLA Land challenges on LJ. Pairings, characters, and genres will vary wildly.
1. Typhoons and Other Things Maiko

**Title:** Typhoons and Other Things That Make Mai Tremble  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Mai/Zuko  
**Warnings:** references to child abuse  
**Word count:** 1130  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Thanks to jin_fenghuang for the beta! Originally written for the Seven Fanworks challenge at LJ's AtLA_Land.

* * *

The wood creaked under Mai's careful footsteps, the shutters rattling in their frames as she climbed the stairs of the tower. The wind gusted over the capitol and shook the palace itself. When she dared peek out the windows, the sky was murky, swirling with vast, threatening banks of storm clouds. She could almost imagine the floor beneath her slippered feet pitching and yawing under the force of the winds.

But Mai didn't imagine. Force of habit.

She found him at the top of the stairs, in the highest chamber of the palace, just as she had known she would. The room was unornamented and almost undecorated. Strong wooden columns lined the walls in the rich, dark teak wood typical of the palace. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, swaying unsettlingly with the movements of the room. The light was a dim orange that flickered from his inattention as much as from the wind. He had flung the windows open – or perhaps it was the wind that had torn them open – and stood framed against the vast, dark sky. ponytail blew in the wind, ornamented now with the mark of the Crown Prince. His clothes had hardly changed since she saw him last, since before his mother left, but he looked strange and new to her somehow. Mai pressed her hands palm down against her robes, staring at him.

"I'm not going back down," he snapped, voice sudden and harsh as a crack of thunder. "You can tell Azula…"

"Please. Like I follow her orders," Mai replied. She kept her tone even, buried her fascination and concern beneath boredom. Steeling herself, she found the courage to step into the room, and added, "No one even knows you're up here."

He cocked his head to the side, like he was listening for the lie in her words. Then, just like that, the line of his back relaxed. His shoulders slumped with relief. Mai stepped up to his side, leaning against the frame of the window as she studied his profile. Zuko's eyes were sharp, the same gold as his father, but somehow haunting rather than commanding. His jaw was stubbornly fixed, put fading as he settled into her presence. And high upon his cheek there was a blossoming, purple bruise.

Mai's breath caught in her throat; she fisted her hands deeper into her robe.

"_Zuko_…"

"It's nothing," he replied immediately. His eyes flicked to the side, taking in her expression. Despite himself, he jerked physically away. Like he didn't want her touch. Like she was brave enough to offer it.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"Training. I wasn't fast enough."

Mai scowled. She'd never heard of firebending training that left bruises. There had been times when they trained together with blades, his long swords and her throwing knives, and that had been rougher, sweatier, dangerous in a way that made her blush to think of. But they hadn't practiced that way for a long time. No teacher could compare to Princess Ursa, and she knew Zuko would not tolerate a replacement.

"It's dangerous up here," she said. "We should go down."

Zuko shook his head fractionally; Mai sighed.

"It's just wind," he said. He was glaring out into the storm, issuing a challenge. "An inferior element. It's nothing to be afraid of."

Reaching out, she tugged suddenly on his sleeve. Zuko turned to look at her, blinking in surprise. Pointedly, Mai rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't need to hear propaganda. Typhoons are dangerous. We need to get down from here."

"I said _no_. I am your prince and you will not disobey me."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Has that ever worked? On anyone?"

He glared back at her. Maybe it had worked on the turtleducks.

"I want to watch the storm roll in, Mai. Leave me alone."

"You're so stupid sometimes," she huffed out.

Zuko really was. She wasn't sure how much of this was just pure, petulant obstinacy – although probably most of it, considering it was _him_ – and how much was genuine ignorance. He'd never been in the capitol during the storm season. The weather was fairer on Ember Island, and Prince Ozai's domain had long been the court rather than the military. It was no hardship to any courtier to pick up and move to a beach house to wait out the storms, while the generals and high ministers continued to conduct the affairs of government without them. But Prince Ozai was Fire Lord now, the military was his to command. He remained at the palace, even with the skies darkened and the typhoons spun ominously closer, and so too did the court.

The corner of his mouth twitched up.

"Yeah, I am," he agreed. His eyes were warmer, reflected the light of the candles burning steady and bright behind her. He must have refocused, she realized, he must have brought them back under his control. His expression slipped, just a little, as he continued, "I've missed you."

"What's to miss?" she replied blandly, ignoring how her heart raced. "I'm always here."

"You're always with Azula," he corrected.

Which was true. Her mother had betrothed her to Zuko for the sake of politics, but she had quickly realized the Fire Lord's favor lay with his daughter. Better to court Azula's friendship than Zuko's affection, according to Mai's mother. But it wasn't that – not really, anyway. Mai did as her mother asked, sullenly and with no pleasure in most circumstances. She liked Azula well enough, but in an odd way, her company was safer than Zuko's. Not physically, of course, but it was so much easier to get through the day without flushing or stammering or wondering what a marriage bed was like.

She shied away from the topic, moving closer to him and looking out the window again. The storm clouds were pretty, in a maudlin, overwrought kind of way. It suited Zuko, anyway.

"So, what happened?" she asked again.

"Nothing," he said stiffly. His voice was defensive, and she just knew he'd raised his chin stubbornly as if that would dispel any doubts.

Mai waited a long moment before speaking, tilting her head and telling him conversationally, "I think I hate your father."

Zuko turned on his heel and grabbed her by the shoulders. She let him jostle her, remaining limp in his hands as she angled a challenging look up at him.

"You can't say that about the Fire Lord! It's treason!"

"He can't hit the Crown Prince," she replied. "It's treason."

His jaw worked for a moment and he looked down uncomfortably. Mai raised a hand, touching it lightly to his face.

"I miss you, too." She paused, enjoying the smile that broke across his face. "Now can we get out of this death trap?"


	2. Games of Court

**Title:** Games of Court  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Ursa, Iroh  
**Warnings:** none  
**Word count:** 886  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Thanks to jin_fenghuang for the beta! Originally written for the Soundtrack challenge.  
**Prompt:** We Could Be Friends.

* * *

Ursa clicked a pai sho tile decisively onto the table, her elegant hands drifting back over the board to retrieve her teacup. Iroh's eyes followed their movement – not with suspicion, although he knew her to be a crafty player, but with interest and appreciation. She held her cup lightly, removing the lid to waft the aromatic tea under her nose before smiling appreciatively. Her golden eyes lit with warmth and good humor as she took a sip.

That made it all the harder to confront her.

Iroh smiled pleasantly in return, turning back to the pai sho board. Her peony and willow had formed a pincer on his white lotus tile, cutting him off from his half formed bright and limiting his options. He would need to begin again, or distract her attention away from that area of the board long enough to avoid that gambit being halted entirely. His brother's wife was a more cunning player than he had originally suspected. Which was entirely the problem.

He rotated a tile between his middle finger and fore finger, deep in contemplation.

"I was very sad to hear that Lady Yu left the court recently. She was quite a dear friend of mine." Ursa gave a quiet, sympathetic hum. Her posture belied her indifference as she straightened on her _dengzi_. Iroh eyed her reaction, pressing further, "I know she was responsible for quite a lot of gossip – and mischief! – but I have always found that the most enjoyable part of court life, don't you agree?"

"You must forgive me, but I've always found it dreadfully tedious," Ursa replied. She leaned in, voice pitched low and soft as if giving a confidence to him. "I try to avoid the court whenever possible."

His smile flickered and a sudden, hard weight settled in his stomach. He had not expected her to lie to him. He didn't know why, but he simply had not.

He was coming to learn that he had underestimated Ursa – or more accurately, overestimated her. He had met her when she was nothing more than a lovely, naïve girl, as enmeshed in the world of politics as she was quietly terrified of it. It was not that he had never expected her to learn the ways of the palace, but he had hoped it would not change her. That _Ozai_ would not change her. But now here she was, baldly lying to his face about her hand in getting Lady Yu – Iroh's own eye on the royal court and his personal powerbroker – exiled to the colonies.

Iroh placed his tile, moving aggressively to break Ursa's line of defense.

"It is difficult," he said, voice tight with anger, "to keep track of courtly business while I am at the war front, as I'm sure you realize. I confess it will be harder still without Lady Yu. You can see my problem."

"Oh, Iroh, why didn't you just say it? We're family. I could easily spend more time at court and send you letters."

She reached across the board, touching her hand lightly with his.

"You have two young children – and a husband filled with much ambition," he replied, eyes narrowing at her. She cocked her head, acknowledging the hit silently. "I would hardly be a good brother if I imposed on your time."

She met his eyes, holding his gaze for several minutes before appearing to make a decision.

"It is not only his ambition," she stated.

"You would do this to me?" he asked, losing all desire for subtlety. "You would steal my throne?"

Ursa laughed, suddenly and loudly with all the amused surprise that glittered in her eyes.

"Is that what you think? Iroh, my dear brother, that is not it _at all_," she replied, her smile still light in her voice. "Ozai seeks power at court and I intend to help him, but he hardly wishes to be Fire Lord. You _know_ my husband. He has no taste at all for bureaucracy, nor any head for military strategy. You should come and watch him lose at pai sho sometime!"

Unsatisfied, Iroh drew back from her.

"You think he will be satisfied?" he asked.

"He will," she said with confidence. "Iroh, truly, no harm was meant. We will work together, strengthening the court so that it will be ready when you ascend the throne."

He wanted to believe her, but he knew Ozai, had seen that unpleasant gleam in his eye when Lu Ten proved to have no bending talent. Unsettled, he watched in silence as she laid another tile. Clumsily. It did nothing to break his attacks on her defenses. They played in silence for several moments; Ursa with courtesy, and even apology, and Iroh with a tension he did not enjoy feeling around her. He couldn't strike the doubts from his mind, could not explain the two images of her in his mind. One was cunning, underhanded, perhaps even ruthless. The second was frighteningly naïve.

"I wish I could have known you earlier," she said eventually, trying to draw him out of his musings. "Away from the court, I mean. I think we could have been friends."

He forced a smile as she laid another tile, turning the tide again in her favor.

"I think we could have been."

Instead, they were family.


	3. Ascent

**Title:** Ascent  
**Characters:** Fire Lady Pei Tian (OFC), Sozin, Azulon  
**Word Count:** 772  
**Summary:** Azulon ruled for 23 years. Sozin died eighty years ago. Who exactly ruled in the interim?  
**A/N:** Written in response to the One Hundred Years of War challenge.

* * *

Fire Lord Sozin outlives a great many people. Avatar Roku, of course, is one of the first to die in a tempestuous storm of ash and lava while a volcano overwhelms his home. The Air Nomads are next, dying their pitifully pacificistic deaths high upon their mountains. Two of Sozin's sons pass during the war, and three of his wives.

Pei Tian is the fourth of his wives. She is lovely and strong as a blooming fire lily in the rippling heat of summer. She does not waver, grasping Sozin's gnarled hands in her own. Though she is merely sixteen years of age, she does not act demure. She does not duck her head. She greets her subjects as the new Fire Lady with her head held high and a cunning curve to her lips.

The palace is filled with royal children. Sozin's sons and daughters are grown; politically fortuitous marriages were made long ago, binding nobles deeper into the cause of war. Now the grand children live at court to be educated, refined, and sent again into battle.

Pei Tian makes sure of the last.

But despite her years as Fire Lady and despite the careful trimming she makes to the family tree, Pei Tian remains an unimportant fourth wife. Sozin is old and infirm, whispers the court. His son Crown Prince Sushun holds the true power, ruling the country while Sozin spends more and more time at sea, searching fruitlessly for the Avatar. She has no heir of her own.

It is time to change that, she thinks grimly.

Sozin's ship is treading close to the line of demarcation with the Southern Water Tribe when Pei Tian's ship catches up with him. She wears a red robe lined with the whitest fur, her feet slippered in tiger-seal leather. Mother of pearl charms dangle from her hair pins. Her Fire Crown is the least of her ornamentation, but she wears it proudly, walking in even steps so it never falls askew from her hair.

"Oh, my love!" she cries out, rushing forward to throw herself into Sozin's arms.

Sozin, as always, seems amused by the show of affection. He is aware of her ambitions. He admires her for them. But he has never once believed she truly loves him. It is that understanding, that mutual respect, that their marriage is founded on. And it is why he consents to bed her on his ship, to try to give her the heir she desires. He knows he will not live to see the game she plays in the royal court, but he finds the possibilities entertaining enough to let her try.

Within the year Sozin is dead and his son, youngest and least of his heirs, is born. Pei Tian names him Azulon in honor of her own grandfather and the court scorns her for it. She weathers it with a smile, studying the face of each courtier and marking down whom to punish later.

At first, it seems there will be little dispute over the royal succession. Crown Prince Sushun is nearly sixty, but still hale and hearty, with wisdom earned on the battlefield and off. It is such a tragedy when he dies that the entire Fire Nation mourns him for months, stricken and despairing.

Debate begins in the court. Should the crown pass to Sushun's son? Or to Sozin's next child? Both choices seem ill advised, Sushun's son is a battle hardened, drunk lout. War Minister Zhan has extended his commission several times, placing him on the front lines in an attempt to kill him off. Few would like to see him on the throne, Zhan foremost among them. But Prince Kiezo, Sozin's eldest living child, is nothing more than a quisling.

While the court quibbles and debates, while factions begin to muster support and draw troops away from the war effort, Pei Tian quietly resolves the problem.

More specifically, two of her assassins do.

Before questions can arise once more, she gathers the court to pen a new law: In the event of a Fire Lord's death, when succession is in dispute, the Fire Lady rules as caretaker of the realm.

Fire Lady Regent Pei Tian smiles as she sits for her official portrait. It will be used to mint new coins, to carve statues claiming new territory for the glory of the Fire Nation.

Her son Azulon watches from the side, playing with his toys. Maybe someday he will ascend after her. Maybe. If he's cunning enough to dethrone her.

She digs her fingers into the hand rests of her chair. He will wait a long time.


	4. Fraid I Mustache You A Question

**Title:** 'Fraid I Mustache You A Question…  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Sokka, ensemble  
**Warnings:** a bit of comedic sociopathy  
**Word count:** 1345  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Thanks to jin_fenghuang for the beta! Originally written for the AtLA_Land Mirrorverse challenge.

* * *

On the third day of Sokka's training, he returns early. In their rush to greet him, they overlook several key facts. He's wearing the Wang Fire beard again, for one. He's also dressed in entirely different clothing and holding himself apart. He looks down at Aang faintly in disgust, peeling the younger boy off of him.

"Did you learn anything good today?" Katara asks eagerly. Sokka's stories of his training so far have been the highlight of the day for all three of them.

"I learned to love and honor our dear Fire Lord," Sokka says. His voice is solemn and his back is straight, his gaze set piercingly ahead.

Aang, Toph, and Katara crack up laughing.

"Oh, oh that's _good_!" Toph crows.

"Do another!" Aang asked eagerly.

Sokka merely looks confused.

"Another what?"

"'Another what?'" Katara scoffs. "Another joke! What are you, some kind of evil copy?"

Her sense of humor must still need some work; it turns out that is _exactly_ what he is.

"And you didn't notice?" the real Sokka asks explosively, some hours later. Other Sokka is tied up, smiling blandly at them all from where he sits in the center of the camp.

Katara shifts awkwardly.

"Well. He made bad jokes like you."

"But they weren't really jokes, Katara," Aang pipes up. He is leaning down, inspecting Other Sokka carefully. "He really meant them!"

Katara shoots a glare his way. Thanks for not helping.

Sokka is more interested in Toph's reasoning, however.

"Shouldn't you have noticed that he's not me? I thought you could tell when people lie!"

Toph shrugs. She looks minorly disconcerted, much the same as she did when they found Jet in Ba Sing Se.

"But he wasn't lying. He thinks he's you," she says.

"Well, he's wrong!"

Katara stifles a giggle. Okay, so this whole thing is _really_ troubling, since having a Fire Nation spy try to infiltrate their group while wearing Sokka's exact face is not cool. But on the other hand, Sokka's reaction is hilarious. It's more than making up for the fact that he's been gone all day, leaving them all to their boredom.

"Maybe he's not," Aang interjects. He stands, crossing his arms as he looks thoughtfully down at Other Sokka, who is thankfully quiet. Just more proof that he's not Sokka, really, since they'd have to gag the real thing to shut him up if the situation were reversed. "Maybe he _is_ you. Just another you!"

"Another Sokka?" Katara asks curiously. That sounds awful.

"From another world!" Aang goes on. He's starting to look excited at the idea.

"Or maybe he's Koh," Sokka says angrily. He draws his boomerang, stalking over to poke at Other Sokka. "Admit it, you face stealing jerk!"

"Ow," Other Sokka says. He flinches back, a mild expression of annoyance on his face. "I am _not_ Koh!"

Toph rocks back and forth on her feet, digging her toes into the soft earth as she tries to get a handle on his answer. Finally, she huffs out a long, angry breath.

"I don't know! I don't think he's lying, but Koh's probably pretty good at lying and he's a spirit so…" she flops a hand back and forth, ending with an, "_eh_."

"Koh probably wouldn't be interested in Sokka, though," Aang says. His brow is furrowed as he thinks. "You're just not important enough – sorry, buddy."

"No. It's true. I'm not," Sokka admits.

"But if he _did_ take your face, you wouldn't have one. Also, it would be your face. No beard. So we have to check two things. First, Sokka, do you have a face?" Aang questions. Sokka feels his cheekbones and his nose, his fingers smooth over his eyebrows and he looks deep in thought before he nods; Katara slaps her hand to her forehead. "Second, is Other Sokka's beard real?"

Carefully, stepping sideways like a lobster-crab, Sokka makes his way over to Other Sokka. Looking at Aang over Other Sokka's head, the boys' eyes meet and after a moment, they nod to each other. Bending down, they tug at Other Sokka's beard simultaneously.

And Other Sokka shouts in pain.

"Would you _stop that_?" he snaps, glaring up at them. If his hands were not bound, Katara is sure that he would be rubbing his face in a very Sokka-like manner. Sokka would, of course, be making quips and flailing in general, whereas this boy just glowers, his blue eyes cold and fixed as he studies each of them hostilely. It's actually pretty unnerving.

"Well, that proves it," Sokka says. He's tapping a finger thoughtfully against his cheek, and some part of Katara suspects he's jealous of Other Sokka's more hirsute cheek. "Definitely not a spirit. How could a spirit possibly have such a full and manly beard? Boggles the mind."

"And, more importantly," Katara cuts in as she rolls her eyes, "it proves he's not Koh."

Aang looks quite relieved.

"But then what is he?" Toph asks.

Sokka shrugs. He leans his elbow on Other Sokka's head, looking down to ask, "What are you?"

"I'm a soldier of the Fire Nation and I will find a way out of this," Other Sokka says.

For the group, that seems to settle it. Whatever or whomever this guy really is, he's a threat. They can't trust him and they also can't let him get back to the town if they want to continue traveling incognito in the Fire Nation. Plus, it would probably screw over Sokka's training with Piandao.

"And right when I was starting to get good at watercolors!" Sokka moans, particularly upset on that point.

"Really?" Toph asks eagerly. "You should bring your paintings back!"

"I'll be sure to tomorrow. Toph, you'll really like the one I'm working on – it's the most beautiful picture – " he stops; everyone snickers.

"But back to the matter at hand," Other Sokka says scathingly. Apparently he's not one for derailment or chitchat. Katara's sort of starting to like him for that. "What are you scum planning on doing with me?"

"Well…" Aang says, drawing out the word. He twiddles his thumbs, looking away awkwardly. They don't actually have a plan. "What do you think we should do?"

"Really, Aang? How is asking Other Sokka a good idea?" Katara asks in shock.

Aang just smiles, scratching his neck to look cute in a way he clearly thinks will deflect her annoyance. Oh, like she hasn't caught on to that trick.

Other Sokka clears his throat, looking thoughtful. His brow knits and after a long, clearly frustrating moment of contemplation, he holds up his wrists. Without even commenting, Sokka cuts the bonds. Katara's heart leaps into her throat and she immediately uncorks her waterskin, but Other Sokka has no ill intentions at all. With a satisfied sigh, he reaches up and strokes his beard, deep in thought. Katara sighs. Evil double or no, he and Sokka are apparently on the same wavelength regarding beard stroking.

"Well, if I were you, I think I would kill me," Other Sokka begins slowly. Katara stifles her gasp; beside her, Toph cracks her knuckles. Other Sokka gestures around their camp. "I mean, you've got an earthbender and these really nice cliff walls going. You could just bury me alive."

"Wow," Aang says. "You really are evil."

Other Sokka nods proudly.

"I try."

Sokka and Katara share a look; Aang joins. Toph doesn't, because she's Toph, but she does cock her head in contemplation.

Katara grimaces through an apologetic smile.

"We're _really_ sorry about this," she tells Other Sokka.

"No, no. I get it."

"I'll be gentle," Toph promises.

She's not, of course. But it's nice of her to say.

Katara mostly forgets about Other Sokka – in the sense of repressing – right up until the day of the invasion. The sight of Haru is a shock and his mustache even more of one. Feeling dread shiver along her arms, she gives a signal to Toph.

Burying him will have to wait, of course, but she does have to wonder where the real Haru is.


	5. Capture the Flag

Title: Capture the Flag

Characters/Pairing: Zuko, Azula, Zuko/Mai

Rating: G

Summary: A capture the flag game gets a little out of hand at Azula's birthday party.

Author's Note: Written for the atlaland Childhood Memory challenge.

* * *

Zuko paced along the eaves of the Cresting Dragon Hall, the tiles clicking suspiciously under his slippered feet. He stiffened his shoulders, resisting the urge to fling out his arms for balance as he surveyed his troops. They looked wan in the afternoon sun, yawning with tiredness or quaking with nerves as he inspected them. Pathetic, really.

Maybe an inspiring speech? That's what Dad did when he wanted to pass a new law.

Zuko drew himself up, gazing past his troops to the edge of the caldera where dark billows of smoke rose up from the ships in the harbor.

"'Dew forms on the leaves, the day draws a battle near, and in honor we'…" Zuko trailed off. That wasn't right at all. There was something about honor in there, he knew, but the syllables didn't fit. He furrowed his brow, trying to finish the rest of the quote. "In honor— Argh!"

He wheeled backwards, arms flailing for balance as Ty Lee flipped up onto the roof and nearly collided with him. She smiled perkily, blinking as she watched him try to recover.

"What?" he snapped.

"Found it," she chirped. She skipped easily past his shoulder, dragging his across the roof with an arm around his waist. At the very edge of the roof, she hunkered down, pulling him with her, and pointed. Zuko glared at the elbow in his face before turning to look where she pointed. A tree with a small, bright red flag snapping in the wind. His eyes widened in surprise. Next to him, Ty Lee giggled. "Azula's got a really good plan, don't you think?"

"No." He did _not_ think that. "Who picks a tree? That's so stupid."

"But she knows we're up here. It'll be really hard to get past her."

"_We've_ got the high ground," Zuko insisted. Lu Ten said that was important. "She doesn't have a chance.

"Okay," Ty Lee said, bobbing her head agreeably. Zuko shot her a narrow look, but she was oblivious as always.

He wouldn't have chosen Ty Lee for his team and he was still suspicious of why Azula would choose to pair with Mai instead. Maybe it really was what Azula said – maybe Mai just didn't like him anymore. It would explain why Mai always turned away from him and seemed to be glaring at him when he walked past, but he still didn't get why Azula would care what Mai thought. He figured Mai being mad at him would be even _better_ reason to make Mai play on his side.

Zuko shrugged the thoughts away, trying to focus instead on his plan. He surveyed the courtyard below, taking in Azula's forces. Amidst the red lanterns and milling adults, Zuko could pick out the few children Azula had chosen for her side. They weren't any better than his own – Bei Chen stood off to the side, crying and pulling at the muddy spot on her dress while Wang Li boredly chipped bark off the tree the flag was in. Only Azula posed a threat, patrolling her territory with sharp eyes.

Only Azula.

"Where's … ?" Zuko began to ask just as Ty Lee stifled a gasp beside him. A metallic hiss filled air followed by a childish whimper.

He turned, rising slowly to confront Mai. She stood loosely on the roof, one arm flung almost carelessly over An Ping's shoulder. The other girl darted pleading looks between Ty Lee and Zuko.

"I don't like this game anymore," An Ping said, gulping back tears.

"You fought honorably," Zuko assured her.

She stared back at him, uncomforted. Some people really were hopeless. Zuko bit back a sigh, looking past her to Mai and the small knife she held at the ready.

"You don't want to do this," he told Mai.

"How would you know?"

"Because… because you don't want to be on Azula's side," he said. Mai placid façade crumbled just a little and he continued, voice gaining confidence. "You want to be with me."

Mai scrunched her face, deadpan turning to a dour pout.

"Do not."

"Do too," he argued, inching his way forward.

Mai stepped back and An Ping looked between them, fear turning into a rather more awkward expression. She raised her hand, interrupting their back and forth.

"Do I need to be here for this?"

Zuko and Mai shared a look before Mai dropped her arm. Zuko jerked his head, indicating An Ping could go. With relieved, she knelt down and scooted her way back to the window-entrance of the roof.

"What's it going to be, Mai? Fight for Azula or join me? You're gonna have to choose."

"Maybe I'm fighting for her right now," Mai said. She almost smiled at him. "By distracting you."

Zuko froze in shock. Just over Mai's shoulder, on the peak of the roof, he could see Ty Lee. At some point she had gone around them. And in her hair, tied on the end of her braid, was the little red flag he'd told her to post under the eaves. She never had.

And now she was going to hand it over to Azula, easy as that.

"No!" Zuko shouted.

He tried to push past Mai. She took issue and soon they were scuffling. He dodged under one of her knives. They both turned to watch as it sailed over the edge of the roof, wincing as it landed point first in a courtier's bowl. Then it was Zuko's turn. He punched out, fire weak and not quite formed. Mai barely had to jump back to avoid it, but as she did, she slipped on the roof. Zuko grabbed her arms, steadying her, only realizing her ploy too late.

Her knife was drawn and held at his collar, cutting into the royal trim. Mom was going to be mad about that.

Panting, faced with certain defeat, Zuko held his position. He stared into Mai's gray eyes, peripherally aware of the blush rising in her cheeks. A daring, stupid idea came to him. Cheeks burning he leaned forward, pecking her on the lips.

Instantly, her defense fell apart. Mai gasped, fingers rising to touch her lips even as she slid down onto her knees.

"Mai!" Azula shouted. "What are you doing?"

Mai didn't respond, but to squeeze her eyes tightly shut, cheeks still red.

Azula made a dismissive sound, sauntering casually across the roof as if it were a garden path. Ty Lee trotted at her side. The flag was gone from her hair, held firmly in Azula's hand.

"Well, it hardly matters now. You've lost, Zu-zu."

"You cheated!" he shouted, balling his fists at his side.

"Of course. Really, Zu-zu, I don't get you. I mean," she gestured at Ty Lee, "Why would you ever think Ty Lee would be on your side?"

"I wouldn't," Ty Lee confirmed. "That's a really good point, Azula."

"I know. Why did you let me choose the teams, Zu-zu? That wasn't bright at all."

"I thought I was being nice, okay!" Zuko said, throwing up his arms. "It's your birthday."

Azula tapped her lip with the hand holding the flag, considering.

"And that is why you lose."

Zuko lunged for her with a shout. Ty Lee moved to block him, but Azula waved her away. She dodged his first grab, but not his second and soon the flag was back in his grasp.

"That's mine!" she panted out, wedging a foot into his ankle as she snatched at the flag. He twisted away, holding the flag back behind her head. "I won it!"

She leaned back too, foot still hooked against his to take his down with him as she overbalanced. The tumbled down onto the roof, still entangled and pulling on the flag.

"You _stole it_."

They rolled the length of the roof, tilting on its angle and picking up speed until, abruptly, they hit something. The flag vanished in a flash of fire between them and a moment later they were hauled apart. Iroh took Zuko by the collar and, stunned, he dangled off his feet. Next to him, Azula was clutched bodily to Iroh's chest.

"Enough!" Uncle Iroh hollered.

Zuko crossed his arms over his chest. This was humiliating. Just over the edge of the roof, he could see Mom and Dad and Lu Ten looking up at them with concern. Well. Mom and Lu Ten looked concerned. Dad looked… approving?

Zuko brightened, dropping his sulk. He reached a toe down, spinning in Uncle Iroh's grasp. Iroh seemed less concerned with him at the moment anyway, staring in bemusement at Azula as she tried to gnaw her way through his arm.

"Now is this any way for a Prince and Princess of the Fire Nation to behave? And on your birthday, Azula!" Iroh admonished.

"Sorry, Uncle," Zuko said, shamefaced. Still, the bright glimmer of Dad's approval softened the sting of Iroh's anger.

Azula looked up, forgoing her escape attempt for the moment.

"He started it," she said.

"I did not! She _cheated_."

Above them, Iroh heaved another sigh.


	6. Everyboys Comes to Zuko's

**Title:** Everybody Comes to Zuko's  
**Characters:** Zuko, Jet, Katara, Aang  
**Word Count:** 1567  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Thanks to jin_fenghuang for the beta! Originally written for the atlaland AU Challenge.**  
Summary:** Zuko thought he'd left the war behind, running his café in the shanty town built up around the ferries to Ba Sing Se. Until she walked back into his life. Casablanca AU

* * *

Everybody comes to Zuko's.

The little town doesn't have a name – or a nation, really. Sure, it's on Earth Kingdom land, but the Earth King has no jurisdiction here. Refugees come from all over the world – Water Tribe, Fire Nation, and even the rare Air Nomad. All fleeing the war. The town is no more than a collection of shacks sitting on the docks for the ferries that leave hourly to freedom. And if freedom is a destination, then it definitely has a name. Ba Sing Se.

But those ferries aren't for just anyone. You gotta be someone or you gotta know someone to get passage to Ba Sing Se, and everyone who is anyone goes to Zuko's.

"Play it, Sokka," Zuko says into the smoky din of his night club.

All nations are gathered here, on this night that's just like any other except that one, spectacular difference. She came here. She came and went and she had that other man on her arm – the better man. The Avatar.

Sokka looks up from his zither, blue eyes wide with concern as he looks to his boss.

"You sure?"

He hasn't played their song since the day the Fire Nation rolled into Omashu and all their dreams were shattered like so much fine porcelain. It was the day the war finally came to the continent and the day Zuko left his old life behind. Freedom fighter he wasn't and the Blue Spirit was no soldier. When she left, there was nothing to fight for anyway.

But then she came back, on the run and in need of his help, stirring up all those feelings he thought he'd left behind and she played their song.

"Play it."

If she can handle it, he can.

Sokka tunes his zither, dawdling with his head down and his back tense for as long as he can, before finally he straightens, fingers plucking at the strings.

Zuko downs the rest of his drink, pushing it back to Pao, who quietly serves up another before discreetly excusing himself. He's gone down the bar to gossip with Iroh, who plays host on most nights with jollity rare in their home country. Currently, Iroh eyes Zuko with concern and sorrow that only makes Zuko angry.

Smoke curls off his clenched fists.

"Planning to burn the place down, firebender?" Captain Jet asks lightly. He slides onto a stool, leaning against the bar with an insouciance only he can muster. Zuko has rarely had cause for conflict with the local police, but if Jet is seeking a fight, he'll surely get it. He turns, letting the smoke flare briefly to full flame as he glares at Jet who blinks only once. Blandly, he adds, "Not that I care if you do."

"I thought it was your job to care."

Jet signals to Pao, raising the glass to Zuko as he contradicts him.

"That's where you're wrong." He stirs the glass with a swizzle stick contemplatively before sticking it in his mouth to chew. He admits, "I used to care."

Zuko finds that hard to believe. In all the time he's been in this little port, all he's seen from Jet is corruption and sly little schemes to keep himself comfortable.

"About the girls' whose 'tickets' you arrange?"

"Hey now, friend. I do that. Those girls go to Ba Sing Se and it brings a happy tear to my eye to see them go. Just fair they have to pay their way like everyone else," Jet says, pressing a hand over his heart. Zuko turns away from him in disgust, and Jet's voice turns more sincere, "There was a girl – a lot like your girl, actually. Pretty, Water Tribe. Full of idealism and hope. I did her wrong and I never had the chance to apologize. That's when I stopped caring. How about you?"

"I never cared," Zuko says. It's easy to hear the lie to the words, beneath the strains of zither music. Jet leans over Zuko's shoulder, watching Sokka play.

"I know where the letters of transit are. I don't really care what you do with it. But Major Long Feng – I bet he cares."

Zuko tenses instantly at the name. He's city police, come down from the wall of Ba Sing Se to inspect this little ferry shanty. He's looking to shut them down, keep the riff raff out of his city, and he seems to have a particular dislike for Zuko. It's only a matter of time until there's a raid. Zuko turns, lifting an eyebrow at Jet.

"How long do I have?" he asks.

Jet shrugs.

"No idea. It doesn't matter to me either way. I'll help him, you know. But for you… maybe you should get going."

Zuko swears under his breath, leaving his perch at the bar to stalk over to where Sokka still plays.

"Hey!" Sokka objects as Zuko bats his hands aside, lifting the zither up to grab the letters of transit still hidden there.

"Sorry, buddy," Zuko manages as he runs out the door.

He's got this one chance to make it up to her and he's going to take it, before Major Long Feng comes looking for him – or for her.

Zuko didn't manage to get the name of her hotel earlier, between the snarking and the catty, passive aggressive comments they were both making, but it doesn't matter. He knows exactly where she will be. The docks.

His feet take him there automatically, eating up the short distance on the street as he dashes through Avatar wannabees and hawkers of priceless, tacky "antiquities." Nearing the docks, he can see the smoke from the late night ferry's engine rising up against the moon. Distracted, he skids into a cart and cabbage scatter to the ground. His heart beats in his ears and he wonders if she's still here, if she managed to get passage on her own, if she was desperate enough to take the Serpent's Pass. And over the wail of the cabbage merchant, he makes out her voice.

"Aang, it's no use," Katara says.

"We have to keep trying," the Avatar replies. He's slender and tall, his face boyish with optimism. "We'll find a way."

"Katara!" Zuko shouts out and even from this far, he can feel the weight of her deep blue gaze when it turns to him. The entire dock stills and he shivers in the quiet. He's throwing away his pride here. He's throwing away everything to give her a shot to get away, and all he can think is that she's so damn beautiful.

She strides toward him, anger parting the crowd. The Avatar walks at her side, bemused and cautious. He didn't witness the scene between Zuko and Katara earlier, off with his useless contacts as he tried to secure passage.

"Zuko," Katara says, voice flat. She puts an arm up, barring the Avatar from coming forward to greet Zuko. "Thought you said all you had to say earlier."

"I didn't." He can't muster an explanation for her because he can't explain it to himself. He rifles in the pocket of his outer robe, coming out with the letters of transit. He grabs her hand, pressing the letter into it. "Take them. Get on the next boat and get out of here."

Her eyes widen in surprise, his name catches in her throat when she looks back up at him, taking his free hand in hers.

"Zuko, I don't know how—"

A sharp whistle splits the air. The police.

Zuko swears as he turns. It's Major Long Feng, charging up the way with what looks like an entire division of officers.

"No!" Long Feng shouts. "You will not bring the war to my city!"

"Jet betrayed me," Zuko says, Jet's name becoming a curse.

He turns back to Katara. She calmly raises an eyebrow at him.

"Jet betrayed you, huh? No kidding."

"You have to go," Zuko urges her. "You have to get on that ferry. If it leaves without you on it, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."

"I dunno," the Avatar interjects, eyeing the Major over Zuko's shoulder. "I think we'll regret it pretty soon."

"What about you?" Katara asks. Her eyes have turned soft, and her voice hits that same soft, empathetic note he remembers so well.

Zuko shakes his head, reaching out to touch her on the chin.

"We'll always have Omashu. And that time I tied you to a tree."

The Avatar frowns, pulling them apart.

"I really don't want to know," he says. "And I know this is tough for you two, but how's this for a solution?"

He flips his staff, aiming it toward Long Feng. Katara pulls on Zuko's arm, moving him out of the line of fire and the Avatar flicks his staff open into a glider, blowing out a great gust of air that he speeds along with its fan. Long Feng and the officers struggle in the wind and the Avatar's eyes flash pure white, sending out a thunderous rush of power that bowls them over entirely.

"Or he can do that," Katara says cheerily.

She takes his hand and then the Avatar's, dragging them both to the dock.

"You know," the Avatar says. "I think this could be the beginning of a weird, beautiful friendship."


	7. Agni Kai for Beginners

**Title:** Agni Kai for Beginners  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Chan, Ruon-jian, Mai  
**Word count:** 1130  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Originally written for the atlaland WYOPB.  
**Summary:** Chan and Ruon-jian have a bone to pick with the Fire Lord.

* * *

"So, dude, are we pre-gaming this Agni Kai, or what?" Ruon-jian asked.

His voice echoed in the empty chamber as he entered. It was not the Agni Kai arena because if Mai was lucky, that wouldn't be happening at all today. Instead it was one of the many sitting rooms of the palace. There was a low, lacquered table on which a delicate arrangement of flowers sat. She pushed one bloom to the side and frowned, pulling it out entirely to replace it with a branch of bramble.

"Hush up, man," Chan replied. He looked around furtively, eye catching on Mai's briefly. "I think we're being watched."

She cleared her throat, and rose, bowing deeply to greet them. Her hands were deep in her sleeves, hair and makeup immaculate. For the moment, she was forgoing her betrothal crown – these two idiots probably wouldn't even realize what it meant, anyway

"I understand you have a dispute with the Fire Lord," she intoned evenly.

Chan's eyes widened in recognition. He stumbled back a step before remembering himself. He thrust a finger toward her.

"Yeah, you bet we do! Fire Lord Loser totally wrecked my house and then my dad grounded me. For _months_. I don't care how hot you are, you aren't stopping me from taking him down!"

Mai sighed. In the months since Zuko's coronation, he'd faced many challenges to his claim to the throne. There were his dad's old generals and those stupid Fire Sages and a couple of his more inbred relatives. Even an angry earthbender or two had shown up, trying to punish him for his dad's little "scorched earth" thing. At first, Zuko had gladly accepted the challenges, handily beating the challengers in combat, fighting with honor and dignity for all to see. But then it got kind of tedious. There were taxes to levy and laws to pass, and seriously, who even had the time.

She did. Well, she did if she didn't attend the weekly finance committee, which she was happy to do. Zuko delegated his challengers to her, and with all the skills a childhood of courtly politics had ingrained in her, Mai promptly delegated most of the work to someone else. She only handled the interesting cases.

Although these two twits were starting to strain the definition.

Mai took a moment to ignore them, enjoying their unsettled gazes as she unsheathed a knife, flicking it out from her wrist to trim the brambles. Chan seemed to gulp audibly from across the table. She flipped the knife around her hand, idly caressing the blade before lifting her unimpressed eyes to meet theirs.

"You do know," she said quietly, "That only firebenders can fight Agni Kai, right?"

"Oh man," Chan said. He turned to punch Ruon-jian in the arm, as if blaming him. "I knew we forgot something!"


	8. No, Really, Let Us Leave

**Title:** No, Really, Let Us Leave  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Gaang, Bumi  
**Word count:** 1083  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Originally written for the atlaland WYOPB.  
**Summary:** Three times the gang thinks Bumi is dead.

* * *

The first time they thought Bumi had died, Aang cried for hours. His tattoos glow and his eyes flashed with uncontrolled power at the thought of his oldest friend dying – the only person in the world who still remembered Aang from _before_. It took a hug from Katara and quite a bit of active swearing from Toph to make him calm down.

"Aang, we don't have time for this," Zuko told him stridently. He was pacing between the walls of the canyon, tensely throwing looks back to Omashu in the distance. He felt responsible, of course. He was the one who'd approved Azula for a day pass and then accompanied her to apologize to all the people she had wronged. He should have known this would happen after how badly everything had gone in Ba Sing Se with the Earth King. "Azula is in there and we don't know what she's planning!"

"Probably to overthrow you," Sokka offered. He was crouched in the dirt, sketching out attack plans. He'd co-opted one of Mai's knives to represent Azula – she didn't appreciate the gesture and hovered over him malevolently.

"Or just conquer all of the Earth Kingdom," Toph said.

"I don't care," Aang said. He turned to fix a glower on the city, snapping his glider open decisively. "But she's not getting away with assassinating Bumi. She's going down."

"Did you say she's going _clown_?" a wild, crackly voiced asked.

"No, I said –" Aang turned, eyes going wide with realization. "Bumi!"

He threw himself at Bumi, knocking the stupid red nose off the old man's face. Zuko shared a look with Mai. What the hell was with the white make up?

Bumi patted Aang on the back.

"Now, now. It's fine. I have a plan to get that crazy brat off my throne," he said. "But first, we need all the fish we can find."

Aang grinned up at him.

"Yeah," Mai said in an undertone. "Can you imagine the damage someone _crazy_ might do to Omashu?"

Zuko stifled a snicker and the planning was on.

The second time they though Bumi was dead, all eyes turned to Toph.

"_What_?" she asked. "If I'd done it, you'd know."

And, well, they'd be content to shrug and let it go at that, but…

"You were last one to see him," Aang said.

"And Bumi was talking about making you his heir," Katara continued. Her hands were firmly planted on her hips. It was weird how "motherly" and "suspicious of murder" looked the same on her.

"Then it'd be extra stupid to kill him before its official," Toph replied. She'd gotten bored with the conversation, dropping to the floor to pick her toes. After a few minutes of idle toe cleaning, she noticed that no one had actually been comforted by her excuse. "Fine, why don't you find Old Guy? We were all out together."

"Where is Uncle?" Zuko asked, stricken expression coming over him.

In the end, despite the hue and cry and near immolation of the city, they did find both King Bumi and Uncle Iroh – together, sleeping off their hangovers on a chaise. Zuko, upon finding them, immediately turned and walked away. He said something about "active forgetting", but he probably wouldn't be who he was if that were possible for him. Aang breathed a sigh of relief, while Toph crossed her arms, a smug expression coming over her.

"I think you have an apology, Sweetcakes, for jumping to conclusions," she said to Katara.

Sokka and Aang exchanged looks before backing away while Katara drew herself up to her full height, finger upraised in outrage.

The third time they thought Bumi was dead, it was Toph's fault, and they should have blamed her sooner.

"What?" she exclaimed when they finally found Bumi conked out in the closet. "I make a far better Best Man than him! You know it, Twinkletoes."

Sokka rubbed a hand across his face, looking between her and Bumi. She looked pretty good in the formal robes and, standing next to Aang, she made him look like something other than a scrawny sixteen year old. He, of course, made Katara look equally good – if not better! – while standing at her side as Maid of Honor. Not that he was wearing a dress, or anything.

"Toph," Zuko started sternly. He wore his full formal robes and his crown as officiant for the ceremony. He almost looked authoritative. "Aang made his choice. He wanted an actual man as his Best Man."

"Who's manly than me?" she snapped back.

In the back of the temple where the wedding was being conducted, Azula raised her hand.

"Why did we even invite her?" Katara groused.

When Bumi actually died, it was awkward all around.

"Oh," Aang said. He scratched the back of his head and looked away. "For real this time?"

"Yes," the messenger said. He looked distraught and also appalled that no one else was distraught. "King Bumi died in his bed, only a few days past."

"So it was peaceful?" Katara asked. She didn't look all too put out either, but she was willing to make the effort to look empathetic.

The messenger stared, mouth working as he tried to formulate an answer.

"Well… no," he eventually said. "He didn't die of natural causes so much as being suffocated with a pillow by a servant."

Aang gasped in horror and Katara covered her mouth.

"Wow, really?" Toph asked.

The messenger nodded sadly.

"She was hauled from the room, ranting. 'Lettuce leaf, lettuce leaf. I'll let you leave!'" He sniffled, dabbing at tears.

The group exchanged looks with each other. Sokka grimaced.

"Well, I guess that was inevitable," he said. The others murmured their agreement.

"And, you know, he must have been really off his game, for her to pull that off," Toph said.

"It was just his time," Aang added sadly.

The messenger looked even more appalled. Katara rushed forward, trying gamely to placate him.

"Rest assured, our hearts go out to the people of Omashu," she said. "And to their new King."

"Queen," the messenger corrected. Toph began to puff herself up and he sent her an odd look. "Rule of Omashu is decided by challenge, not birth. Should a King die, the city reverts to the last person to challenge him and win."

Sokka slapped his hand against his forehead. Realization took a moment longer to dawn on everyone else.

"Queen Azula accepts your condolences," the messenger added.


	9. Coronation Blues

**Title:** Coronation Blues  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Zuko, Sokka, Iroh, Jin, Suki  
**Word count:** 1306  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Thanks to jin_fenghuang for the beta! Originally written for the atlaland WYOPB.  
**Summary:** Zuko isn't too pleased about Iroh's business priorities. College AU

* * *

Zuko leaned back in his computer chair, glaring at the computer screen as his Skype connection cut in and out. A yellow prompt window came up, telling him he had too much background noise. The room was completely silent. If his international cell had any better reception, he'd be using it, damn the cost, but some of the stupider architects who'd built the dorms of Ba Sing Se University had turned the entire building into a dead zone.

"You still there, Uncle?"

"Yes, I—" It cut out again, the line hiccuping before the voice smoothed back over. "Yes, I'm here, Prince Zuko. What were you saying?"

A deep frown joined Zuko's glare.

"I was asking about my coronation. Can you come?"

He felt stupid asking, especially since Uncle Iroh was even in the Fire Nation at the moment. But he'd been making noise just a few minutes ago about how happy he'd be to get back to Ba Sing Se and finally put this excise tax business behind him. And the way it was sounding, Zuko suspected that he'd be back just as Zuko was leaving.

The connection turned clear and bumped up to five bars.

"I didn't get that. Let me try calling again," Uncle Iroh said, voice strained in a way that meant he was lying.

Uncle disconnected. Zuko tore off his headset, throwing it soundly against the wall. His roommate, Sokka, looked up from where he was tinkering with the rice cooker. The Skype incoming call dialogue popped up on his screen, but Zuko ignored it. Uncle didn't really want to talk anyway.

"Treasonous headphones?" he asked.

Zuko nodded sharply.

"_Banished_."

Sokka looked between the headphones and Zuko and then back.

"Buddy, I hate to break it to you, but our dorm room just isn't that big. Those headphones are still in the country. Maybe you could challenge them to a duel."

"Duels are only for firebenders," Zuko snapped. After a moment, he added, "And they're outdated. That would be barbaric."

"Right," Sokka said, drawing out the syllable as he rolled his eyes. The rice cooker clicked, heating cycle done, and he grinned in excitement. He pulled the lid open and almond-y scented steam rose up from pot inside. He crowed, "Yes! Am I awesome, or what?"

Zuko decided not to answer that in the name of maintaining stable international relations.

"Dude, come on," Sokka said. "I made _cake_! In a rice cooker!"

"Impressive," Zuko replied tonelessly.

Sokka made a face at him. The girls from down the hall, called by the smell of fresh baked goods, appeared in the door frame. Zuko tensed, glowering at them. If there was one thing he couldn't get used to about college living, it was the lack of privacy. Everyone was just always _around_. Sure, in the palace there were servants following him around everywhere, but it wasn't like they were people.

"Did someone say cake?" Suki asked with a grin.

Of course. She'd use any excuse to swing by and flirt with Sokka. He moved to the door like a shot, leaning against the wall to talk to the girls. Zuko rolled his eyes.

"It's pretty good cake, if I say so myself. And I do," Sokka said. His flirting voice was pretty close to his tongue-tangled rambling voice. "A tasty, sweet cake. But not as sweet as _you_."

Zuko's squinted at Sokka, mouthing the words in horror. He quickly turned away from the awful sight. His eyes skimmed over his computer screen – Uncle Iroh was calling again – and then forced himself to look to Jin. She'd sidled into the room and was now crouched down, peering at the cake. She looked up, catching his eye.

"Could you…?" she mimed lifting the pot out of the rice cooker with a wide, friendly smile on her face.

"Uh. Yeah."

He got up, awkwardly stooping to get the pot out of the cooker. It was easy enough to dissipate the heat, preventing burns. It was a little harder to look away from Jin's green eyes as he stood. She was standing awfully close. Damn it, he _had_ a girlfriend. A fiancée, even!

"Here," he said, thrusting the pot awkwardly at her.

Jin took it easily, smile unwavering.

"Thanks," she said.

Zuko edged away from her, looking ruefully down at his hands.

He felt it said something about his country that the most common use for firebending was as a replacement for oven mitts. Yes, they were industrial and technological leaders in the world and yes, their country still claimed a proud and fierce warrior tradition. They just didn't actually _do_ of that anymore. He'd learned the Dancing Dragon for an actual dance, for fuck's sake.

Any fights he fought would be purely of the metaphoric variety anyway. His coronation was just a hollow ceremony for the sake of publicity. As Fire Lord, he'd hold little real power – until he graduated with his PoliSci degree. Then, maybe, they'd let him do stuff. Despite it all, he was looking forward to the coronation. If nothing else, it was a pointed "fuck you" to his father, which he always enjoyed. The media had been in a frenzy since Father's corruption trial ended, forcing Zuko to lay low at school. After a lengthy debate about whether to dispose of the royal family altogether, the Diet had come down on the side on a rebranding. The Fire Nation needed its Fire Lord, as a symbol of the country and its tradition. Just not… _that_ Fire Lord. Ozai was duly removed from the throne and Zuko was chosen to ascend.

Jin was unceremoniously digging into the cake. Zuko blinked in surprise and cast a sidelong glance toward where Sokka was still making eyes at Suki. Should he stop her or something?

"This is really good cake!" Jin said. She covered her mouth, blushing a bit as she caught his renewed staring. "I mean, I couldn't help myself. Did you cook it yourself?"

"Well, not really –"

She put the cake down on Sokka's desk, stepping forward to take Zuko's hand. Her breasts brushed his side as she pressed close to him, looking up with half-lidded eyes.

"You're like a wizard!"

Zuko looked to Sokka in a panic. No help there.

"I – sorry," Zuko shook her off. He searched around for an excuse. Somehow, _I'm engaged_ seemed too harsh. Instead, he dove for the computer. He pointed at the screen where Uncle Iroh was again dialing. "Family thing. I have to go."

A disappointed look flashed across Jin's face, but Zuko forced himself to look away. He hurriedly answered Uncle's call, tapping at the keyboard controls to turn the volume down. Why the hell were his headphones all the way across the room when he needed them?

"Zuko!" Uncle said, voice full of relief and admonition both. "I'm glad I was finally able to get through."

"Yeah. Connection's been bad. Maybe we should just call it off and talk in the Fire Nation instead."

"You know I have to get back to the teashop before you come," Uncle said. Zuko scowled. He hadn't really thought it would work, but he still didn't like hearing the finality in Iroh's voice. "It's at a delicate stage. Someone has to hold down the fort. Once I get the tea through customs here, I can't just _leave_ again.

"Sure, okay. It's not that important. You can just come to my _next_ coronation!" he snapped.

He reached out, hitting the power button to give his computer a hard shut down. He was aware that wasn't a nice thing to do to the computer, but neither was exiling it to join the headphones, and he was trying to compromise. Huffing out smoke, he looked up to the stunned expressions of Sokka, Suki, and Jin.

"Uh… cake?" Sokka offered lamely.


	10. Royal Pains

**Title:** Royal Pains  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Aang, Zuko, Kuei  
**Word count:** 990  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Originally written for the atlaland WYOPB.  
**Summary:** Who would have thought Zuko and Kuei wouldn't get along?

* * *

Aang rubbed a despondent hand across his arrow. He was way too young to be getting stress headaches. The bickering continued around him and he felt an Avatar State-sized temper tantrum building in him. He stood, slamming his hands down on the table.

"Enough!" he shouted.

The Earth King inclined his head graciously, leaning back into his chair with a mild, chagrinned expression. Zuko glared at him, crossing his arms, snarl still on his face. He did shut up, though, so that was a plus. In the middle of the table, directly across from Aang himself, Hakoda and Chief Arnook watched with amusement. Well, actually, Hakoda seemed amused. Arnook seemed interested in a wily sort of way that Aang might be suspicious of if he had the time or energy. Ever since Kuei had made that disastrous deal giving the Northern Water Tribe control of their shipping lanes, Aang had learned to treat Arnook as the kind of man he was – a politician.

It didn't seem like Kuei had actually learned that one, though.

Reining in his anger, Aang turned to him. He gestured with an open hand and asked, "Now, King Kuei, please continue with your proposal."

Kuei straightened. He shuffled the papers before him, repositioning his spectacles before reading out in a rehearsed, formal voice, "In light of the devastation done to Ba Sing Se and surrounding areas, in the interests of the noble people of the Earth Kingdom, I propose remuneration in the form of 3,000 taels, a work force of skilled carpenters and craftsmen to be determined in negotiations, and a sincere, signed apology."

Aang nodded. He turned to Zuko, strained smile on his face. Zuko's eyes flicked to him and back to Kuei, glower fixed on his face. Aang exhaled slowly. Zuko was a friend. He was a friend. It wasn't okay to murder him. That wouldn't help anyone.

"Fire Lord Zuko, how do you respond to this proposal."

Zuko remained silent for a long time. After a long, excruciating wait, he told Kuei directly, "No."

Kuei looked down at his papers and back up. He pouted.

"But I worked on that with you! I think it's entirely reasonable. It's not even that much money!"

"No. I will not pay and you will have neither my apology, nor my people to do work for you," Zuko spat out. He stood, hands clenched at his side.

"But—"

Zuko turned, stalking out of the room. Kuei looked pleadingly to Aang. He slapped a hand over his face, counting backwards from a million before following Zuko out.

He found Zuko in the garden, near the turtleduck pond. He was turned with his back to Aang, eyes set over the palace walls where construction was still ongoing.

"Zuko," Aang started carefully. "I think you need to go back in there. What's the big deal? He's not asking for that much."

Zuko didn't reply; his back tensed and smoke seeped from between his fingers.

"Zuko—"

"No," he replied, voice clipped. "We don't owe him anything. His city fell on his watch. In fact, it was brought down by his own people. We are the ones who restored it to him. Honestly, he should repay _us_."

Aang stared at Zuko.

"Seriously?" he shouted. "You seriously just went there? Do you remember what _you_ did in Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko turned in place. He looked entirely prepared to fight – with fists or fire.

"Is it the crown? Is that why you're such an asshole?" Aang continued, voice going high in his anger.

Zuko blinked in shock.

"Did you just call me an asshole?"

"I did! Because you are!"

"What about _him_?" Zuko asked. He flung out an arm, pointing back at the palace. "He's ready to give up everything just to be liked. He has no idea what his people need. Where was he when Ba Sing Se fell? When it was recaptured? Why should we trust someone who won't even fight for his people?"

Aang held up a hand, squinting at Zuko in confusion.

"Wait, what? You don't want to pay because you think… it's too little?"

"Of course it's too little," Zuko said explosively. "Three thousand taels is pocket change!"

"So why are you…?"

"To get him to fight! He can't count on me to just do the right thing for his people all the time. I have my own country. Look at Chief Arnook! He takes care of the Water Tribe first and Kuei is so dumb he let Arnook take advantage of him."

"Oh."

That was actually a fair point. Aang's shoulders slumped and he breathed out heavily, heart finding its rhythm as calm reasserted itself. Kuei did really do whatever he thought would make the others happy. He did never pressed for reparations that Zuko didn't want to pay and he'd barely even asked for his city back from the Provisional Council of the White Lotus that ruled in his absence. Aang dropped down to sit next to the pond. He held out a hand and a turtleduck came to nibble at it. He looked back at Zuko ruefully.

"You know, I thought this would be the easy part."

"Peace is never easy," Zuko replied quickly.

"Yeah, but," Aang shrugged. "I thought you two would at least get along. You have so much in common."

"We _what_?"

"He traveled in the Earth Kingdom, you traveled in the Earth Kingdom. He's got Bosco, you've got General Iroh," Aang said. Zuko made a face. "Plus, you're both royalty."

Zuko glared at him.

"I'm going back in there. And if you don't want me to give him something else in common with me," Zuko said nastily, pointing to his scar. "Then I suggest you come along, and get Kuei to be less useless."

Aang scrambled to his feet.

Times like this, he really wished King Bumi were here to mediate. He and Zuko would probably really get along.


	11. Masquerade

**Title:** Masquerade  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Azula, Ozai; Zuko/Yue, Lu Ten/Mai, Zuko/Mai  
**Word count:** 622  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Originally written for the atlaland WYOPB.  
**Summary:** Azula has suspicions about the Crown Prince's son. AU

* * *

Ozai bent down, scrutinizing the child. Azula smiled as she watched her father circle Prince Lu Shiyi, her cousin's son. He was chubby yet, only five years of age, with the round, red cheeks of a healthy child. But he lacked the stoutness of his father and grandfather. Instead, even at this age, Azula could see the long limbed body of her mother and her father emerging. It would be fair enough to say that the boy took after his mother, but for the gleaming yellow of his eyes.

Or, more precisely, the yellow of Zuko's eyes. Ozai's eyes. Certainly not Lu Ten or Iroh's.

"It proves little, Azula," Ozai said eventually. He straight, robes swirling as he moved about his office like a caged animal. Azula knew how he felt. It had been one thing to live under Fire Lord Azulon, Crown Prince Iroh's shadow as mere spare royalty. It was another thing entirely to watch Fire Lord Iroh dodder about on the throne, throwing favors to Zuko and his Water Tribe wife. Ozai's gaze was level as he looked back to Azula, hands flexed at his side in frustration. "What even could we do with it?"

"The Crown Prince has been made a cuckold, Father," Azula said. If her voice cracked, if she was a little too eager to sound entirely sane, it was only because this situation was hardly one a princess could bear and stay sane. "By his own, beloved cousin. A bastard is heir to the throne. It dishonors our country and it cannot stand."

Lu Shiyi shifted where he stood in the middle of the office. He was well trained, Azula would give him that. Wasn't much of a firebender, but at least he knew how to keep his mouth closed. His eyes were wide, however, watching his great uncle – no, his grandfather – with unease. Azula glared at him, blue flame licking at his fingers, and he looked away in fright.

"But Zuko is heir as well."

Her brother's name was a curse on his lips. Even when Fire Lord Iroh's mind had still been with him – before their experiment in poison tea – he had groomed Zuko for a greater role in the Fire Nation than he deserved. With his health declining and Lu Ten's betrothal to Mai still uncertain, Iroh had officially adopted Zuko into his line. He now worked alongside Lu Ten and Mai, ruling the country in Iroh's stead. The three shared an ease and friendship that Azula resented more than anything in the world, one she wasn't sure even adultery would destroy.

If it even was adultery.

"What of Princess Yue?" Ozai asked suddenly. "What of Princess Kala?"

Azula frowned. She barely paid that little brat any mind. She had her mother's blue eyes, but thankfully she wasn't cursed by that spirit-touched white hair. She was a mediocre firebender at best – lineage that could be traced to either Lu Ten or Zuko, honestly.

"Father, what does it matter?"

"It matters," he hissed. "Because Zuko has broken the treaty."

"If Princess Kala is Lu Ten's, all that means is that the Water Tribe got an even better deal than they deserved."

"No, Azula. It means that Zuko has betrayed their princess," Ozai said. There was a dark, delighted curl to his lips. "It means the Water Tribe will have to avenge her, to steal her back."

Azula smiled. And if the Water Tribe couldn't be counted on for that, well, Azula had gotten quite good at masquerade. They would end Lu Ten's charade of a regency, destroy his honor and Zuko's both, and take back the country.

It was almost a pity. She really had liked Mai before she married into the family.

Ursa's Adventures in Tea-making: Blends and Infusions Beloved by Royalty – Including Fire Lord Azulon's favorite recipe!


	12. By My Sword

**Title:** By My Sword  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairings/Characters: **Gaang  
**Word count:** 1738  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Originally written for the atlaland WYOPB.  
**Summary:** The Day of Black Sun doesn't go quite as planned. AU

* * *

There was a sharp crack followed by an explosion – distant, but no less distinct as it echoed down the hall. Azula smiled at Sokka and he pressed her harder to the tunnel wall. She _would_ tell him where Suki was.

"Looks like the firebending's back on," she said mildly. She swept out her foot viciously, bending a hard, blue streak directly at Sokka. He grunted as he stumbled backward, just barely dodging. She kicked out again and he dove to the tunnel floor, spitting dirt from his mouth as he looked up. Azula levered herself up and broke free of the bonds Toph had bent to pin her to the wall. She dropped gracefully to her feet, going into a ready stance as her grin widened.

"Dad's all the way at the end of the hall and down a secret stairway on the left. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to see you now. Killing Zuzu must have put him in a good mood."

She turned to run, halting when Aang blurted, "Zuko's _dead_?"

Sokka exchanged a look with him. Zuko… dead. Half a year ago, that would have been a relief to hear. No it seemed immaterial. His stomach twisted at the glee on Azula's face. She thought it was funny, her father murdering her brother.

Azula lifted an eyebrow at them over her shoulder.

"Of course. What do you think that lightning was? Little Zuzu thought no one knew about his plan to run off and join you. Father finally gave him the punishment he deserved."

"Not to contradict you, princess," Toph cut in. She pushed her foot along the floor, frowning as she sought answers. The Dai Li had been creating a lot of interference for her, but this time she seemed to find what she was looking for. "But _Zuko_ isn't the dead one."

Azula's smile slipped.

"Don't be ridiculous."

Toph smirked at her, giving an insouciant shrug.

"Long live Fire Lord Zuko."

Azula barely gave them another glance, pushing past them to dash down the hallway.

"So… do we go after her?" Aang asked.

"Fight her and Sparky?" Toph asked. "I don't think so."

Aang nodded in agreement, rubbing at the scar on his chest. Last time they'd fought Zuko and Azula it really hadn't gone well.

But at the same time…

Sokka stared down the tunnel, hearting pumping in his chest as he thought. The eclipse had ended and now all their troops were on the line again. If his father had been successful, they were in the fight of their lives, holding the palace against the city's own defenses. The Fire Lord was dead – just like Sokka had planned, if not _how_ he'd planned. They were close.

"I don't think we'll have to," Sokka said. He took off down the hall. He had to hope he was right, that all his gambles were finally paying off.

Without question, Toph and Aang followed him. They pelted down the hall, keeping Azula just within sight. She leapt at the stairwell wall, caroming off it to dive down all the stairs at once. She rolled to her feet at the bottom of the stairs, not even breaking a sweat as she continued toward her father's hidden throne room.

Sokka took the stairs two at a time. Aang snapped open his glider, but Toph thrust out an arm, stopping him. She pushed her hands down, kicking out with a foot, and the staircase smoothed into a slide beneath their feet. Aang collided with Sokka, and they both wheeled their arms for balance as they landed at the bottom. A laugh broke from them both, quickly extinguished by their high, taut nerves.

Toph led them into the throne room, clawed hands held defensively in front of her. Sokka measured his pace as he followed her. He drew his sword and his eyes scoured the walls, looking for Dai Li agents. Aang walked beside him, turned half way to cover his flank, staff held at the ready.

On the far side there was a throne. A man heaped before it. Flames crackled as a tapestry burned.

"Father?" Azula, her voice gone soft and fearful.

Half way across the room, Zuko knelt on the floor. His back was stiff, shaggy hair hanging into his face, hands clenched on his knees.

"_What did you do_?" Azula shrieked. Zuko didn't move. "How could you?"

Zuko didn't answer. Sokka slid his eyes from the pair to the body on the floor. He edged around Azula, who seemed less and less aware of the world around her as she shouted at her brother, coming to stare down at the Fire Lord.

His face was handsome, distorted in his final act of rage. A hole smoked in the center of his chest and Sokka had no doubt it was from lightning. Slumped on the floor, his hair was a tangled mess, but gleaming through the mass of black hair, the Fire Crown was still visible. Sokka bent down. His gorge rose in his throat as he touched the Fire Lord's hair. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth against the feeling, opening them again to quickly disentangle the crown. He pulled it free and stood.

"Get him," he ordered to Aang.

The other boy stood awkwardly over Zuko, weathering Azula's shouts, staff held defensively for when her attacks turned physical. Wide eyed, Aang looked to the crown in Sokka's hand.

"What are you doing?"

"We're winning the war, Aang," Sokka replied. He jerked his head meaningful toward Zuko. "We need him for it."

"Oh, no you don't!" Azula shouted.

Wild blue fire burst from her fists. She turned quickly, sweeping her arm to send out a low wave of intense fire. Sokka dropped to the floor, flattening himself just under it. He looked up in a panic. Azula's expression was dead, flattened to nothing while her eyes were widened, darting around in rage. She thrust out other hand and Sokka watched as fire bloomed from her palm, directed right at him.

A stone wall snapped up right in front of his face, grazing his nose. The fire struck against it, heating it to red.

Sokka scrambled backward. He found the crown on the floor where he had dropped it and got to his feet, peeking carefully around the stone barrier. He breathed a sigh of relief. On the other side, Azula was again encased in rock. This time, her nonchalant, unimpressed expression was nowhere to be found. She glared fiercely at Toph, snarl on her face.

"I will kill you for this," she spat.

"Yeah, yeah. Like you weren't going to kill me anyway," Toph said. A smile lit her face. She leaned forward and the rock moved with her, squeezing Azula enough to force a strangled, pained gasp from her. Sweetly, she added, "Thought I'd make my death worth it."

"Toph, cut it out," Aang said. He looked unhappy with the turn of events, tense like he didn't know where to strike. He stood over Zuko, looking down at him occasionally with a conflicted expression. Eventually, he addressed him, "Uh, so, I don't know if you're up to date with what's going on. But… we're going to need you to come with us."

Zuko didn't acknowledge him.

Aang shrugged at Sokka, who strode forward. He frowned, bending down to look at Zuko. He didn't _seem _crazy.

Zuko's eyes were closed, hands still on his knees. He hadn't moved once during the fight. His breathing sounded like the kind of forced, measured calmness Sokka knew from when he was trying to breathe through some awful kind of pain. His face looked wet from tears.

Sokka reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

"So, hey, uh." Inwardly, he winced. He wasn't doing any better than Aang. Stiffening his resolve, he continued firmly, "We have this plan, and we need you for it…"

Abruptly, Zuko's eyes snapped open and he stood. Shocked, Sokka took a step backwards, dropping his hand from Zuko's shoulder.

"I heard," Zuko told him bluntly.

Aang shot Sokka a look. The boy looked bewildered, mouthing, "Is that a good thing?"

Sokka could only shrug.

Zuko ignored their interplay, walking forward to meet Azula's gaze. He bowed deeply to her.

"I'm sorry," he said to the floor. He straightened, looking her in the eye. "I'm sorry for everything Father did to you."

Azula screamed in incoherent rage. She breathed a gust of white hot flame at Zuko and he moved, almost quicker than Sokka could see, cutting it in half with his own fire.

"We're done, Azula. He isn't worth vengeance. Come after me, and I'll put you down too," Zuko said. Azula was beginning to hyperventilate, angry tears streaming down her face and Zuko looked away. His face was stony as he looked to Sokka. "Let's go."

He turned, walking quickly to get out of Azula's range. Sokka, Aang, and Toph followed, only too glad to get away from Azula's ever more unhinged cries. As they left the throne room, Toph bent up another great barrier.

"Need to give the Dai Li something to do," she told them.

"Right, good idea." Sokka jogged to catch up with Zuko as he navigated easily through the passages. "So, uh, just to be clear, you're actually our prisoner."

Zuko dismissed that with a shake of his head.

"That's fine."

"And maybe you should walk with us. So we don't think you're going to run, or anything," Sokka continued. Zuko ignored him. Sokka threw a look backward, calling out, "Toph!"

She shackled Zuko's feet to the foot. His momentum carried him forward and he doubled over, only catching himself part way down to the ground. Sokka crouched down to talk to him. Zuko glared back.

"So, your sister said you were wanted to be on our side and while you do have the whole 'killed the Fire Lord' thing going for you, we still don't trust you," he said conversationally. "Past history, you know? You're our _prisoner_, Zuko. You are going to wear the crown and sit on the throne and end the war. But I don't actually care if it's by your hand or by my sword."

He drew his sword and laid it across his neck. Beside him, he could feel Aang shifting uneasily. He started forward, only to be blocked by Toph.

"What's it gonna be?" Sokka asked.


	13. The Bird Came Back

**Title:** The Bird Came Back  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairings/Characters: **Gaang; Hawky  
**Word count:** 603  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.  
**Author's note:** Originally written for the atlaland WYOPB.  
**Summary:** Energy can neither be created nor destroyed.

* * *

In between Suki's insistent poking and the running game between Sokka and Toph to come up with the best Ozai insult, it actually took quite a while for Aang to wrangle the group back together. He was tired, alright? Energybending really took it out of a guy.

Oh, he'd said that aloud, hadn't he?

Ozai glared venomously at him from the ground. A line of spittle connected his mouth to the ground, particles of dirt sticking wetly to his beard.

"Wow, it really makes you think," Suki said. She was bending over again, inspecting Ozai's crumpled form. After getting over her initial horror, she'd been fascinated by the wreck at her feet, an almost gleeful gleam of scientific curiosity entering her eyes. It was small wonder she and Sokka got on so well. "What happened to all that energy?"

"Maybe it just went away," Toph suggested. She seemed pretty uncomfortable talking about the subject.

Sokka, on the other hand, was morbidly fascinated. Aang winced at his eager expression.

"Couldn't be. Energy doesn't just go away. It must have gone somewhere. Maybe to all the benders in the world! Quick, Toph, do you feel stronger?"

Toph furrowed her brow, concentrating. She planted her feet and turned, pushing a wave of rock at Sokka to over balance him.

"Nope. Same badass as always."

"I really don't think it works that way," Aang said. "And you don't need any more power, Toph."

She huffed in annoyance; either because she was already the best, or because more power meant even more awesomeness.

"Well, maybe it went into _something_, rather than someone. Was the comet straight above you?" Sokka asked.

Aang's stomach churned at the thought. Sozin's Comet did not need to be any more powerful. Spirits only knew how much destruction it would wreak in a hundred years if he had only added to its power.

Quickly, he shook his head.

"It was almost gone when we finished. I don't think that's it. I hope it's not."

The musings of the group sputtered in fits and starts as they came up with ideas and tossed them out, often disturbed at the implications. Tired and ready to set off back to the Fire Nation, Aang was about to call them into the airship when Sokka straightened, looking over Aang's shoulder and up into the sky. He had a excited, shocked expression on his face.

"Is it Boomerang?" Suki asked, voice torn between amusement and genuine curiosity.

"No, but it's just as good," Sokka said. He threw an arm up into the arm. A bird screeched and Aang finally saw what Sokka was excited about. The hawk circled and then landed, settling of Sokka's forearm. "Hawky!"

"Wow, Sokka, that's amazing," Toph said. She waited a beat. "Does he have my letter?"

"I don't know, lemme look." Sokka carefully pried the bird's feet from his arm, feeling around its legs for a letter. "Sorry, I guess –"

Hawky raked out with his talons, flapping his wings to rise off Sokka's arm. The air crackled and lightning shot from Hawky right past Aang, singeing his eyebrows.

Wide eyed, Aang turned to gape at Sokka. The other boy's mouth opened, soundlessly forming shocked words.

"… could he do that before?" Suki asked.

"I – no!" Sokka said. Hawky flapped again, fire trailing his wings. Sokka yelped and glared at the bird. "No, Hawky! Bad Hawky. No firebending on my arm!"

Aang chuckled nervously, rubbing his hand over the back of his head.

"Well, I guess that answers that."

He'd really need to aim more carefully the next time he energybent a Fire Lord.


	14. Unchosen

**Title**: Unchosen  
**Characters**: Zuko, Iroh, Aang  
**Summary**: Padawan Zuko must choose between the adoptive family he has found in the Jedi, and his blood family. Star Wars fusion

Dawn broke on the Jedi Temple, reflected by the orbital mirrors down through the dingy sky until finally it filtered through the transparisteel windows of Padawan Zuko's small room in the Western Tower of the Jedi Temple. The light was gray and pale, but enough to break him from his meditative Force trance. He breathed out uneasily, balling his hands into fists. The balance of the Light Side always seemed just outside his grasp, and answers further still.

Jaw working, he reached out to play the holo message again. Blue light flickered and resolved into a robed figure, face obscure by a long hood. A familiar, cruel smirk peeked out from beneath.

"Brother dear," Azula began. Her voice was saccharine and though Zuko knew it was fake, he ached to hear it, leaning forward to listen to the promise once again. "Your mission is coming to an end. Father demands results. Deliver the Chosen One to the Senate building tonight and your exile will be over. We'll be a family again."

The holo looped and began again. Zuko stared at it just as he had the evening before when it first arrived, delivered by one of Azula's handmaidens. Mai had pressed it into his palm, her long and solemn face showing just a glimmer of happiness as she promised to see him again soon.

"Deliver the Chosen One…" Azula repeated, and with a jerk Zuko reached out through the Force, slapping the message off.

Zuko carefully reached up, touching the weal of scarred skin that struck across his face. Father had been the one to burn him with Force Lightning, leaving his face a ruin and Zuko himself only half alive when the Jedi found him on Naboo. Even the Jedi Healer had not been able to completely heal him, leaving him with partial vision in his right eye and a scar that terrified the Younglings despite Yoda's admonitions.

He'd be free of that fear soon, back at his father's side where he belonged.

"Zuko?" Master Iroh called through the thin, durasteel door dividing their rooms. Zuko dropped his hand, trying to rein in his shame before his master felt it across their training bond. As usual, Iroh verbally ignored Zuko's inner struggles, even as he tried to soothe his apprentice through the Force. The door whooshed open and Master Iroh popped his head in, enthusing, "I made jook!"

Zuko nodded quietly, rising slowly to follow his master into their small dining alcove. Breakfast conversation was spare, unusually free of Master Iroh's chatter as the older man eyed his Padawan with growing worry. Zuko avoided his eyes.

It was easier to concentrate on the things he hated about the Jedi Temple – the stares, the whispers, the criticism even when he did right – than it was to think of leaving Master Iroh's side.

"Thank you, Master," Zuko said as he cleared the table. His eyes flicked up once, doing nothing to temper the depth of gratitude in his voice. Master Iroh stirred, his presence in the Force coming into sharp, unhappy relief in the back of Zuko's mind; he clearly heard the good-bye in those words that Zuko could not suppress.

Master Iroh reached out to snag Zuko's sleeve, but Zuko dodged away.

"I have class." He narrowed his eyes, cursing Master Iroh internally for souring their last morning together. Stiffly, he bowed before turning on heel and leaving the apartment.

Master Iroh sent out a steady, warm pulse of comfort and apology. Zuko quickened his pace.

His Master was the only Jedi to whom Zuko felt any bonds of loyalty. It was Master Iroh who argued for his admittance to the Temple, traumatized and already brimming with anger at age thirteen. Master Yoda dismissed him out of hand. Too old. Too scarred. If Master Iroh had not fought for him, Zuko didn't know where he would be. The Agri-Corps, where all Jedi rejects were sent, was truly the best option.

Proving himself at Master Iroh's side during the Naboo blockade crisis had swayed the Jedi Council, but they had never let go of their suspicions of him, nor he of his resentment toward them.

It was impossible to outrun the Force, but distance did dim a training bond, and Master Iroh's attempts to calm Zuko faded into the background. Of course, all presences faded into the background around the Chosen One.

Water crashed down from the high, airy ceiling in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and even that sound seemed drowned out by Aang. Zuko swallowed back against his jealousy, deliberately moving his hands away from his twin lightsabers, as he lifted his gaze up to where Padawans Aang and Katara splashed in the fountain pool. Aang's Master, Gyatso, had clearly taken on the task of distracting Master Pakku from their apprentices, guiding the other man away from the fountain with a firm hand on his back. Master Gyatso gestured cheerily to the surrounding gardens, pointing out the gifts Chancellor Ozai himself had sent after they saved his home planet. Master Pakku seemed unmoved, mouth pursed and annoyance gathering both on his face and in his Force presence.

Katara glanced over her shoulder at her Master, face pensive; Aang took the opportunity to shift the waterfall, dousing her completely. She glowered at him, wringing out her hair as he laughed.

"That's a good look for you, Katara," Zuko said.

She straightened, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him suspiciously. Her Padawan braid hung into her face, ruining the effect as she tried to blow it out of the way with little puffy, breaths.

"It really is!" Aang said cheerily. "But you always look great."

Katara softened, giving Aang a pleased smile. Aang flushed at the attention, fussing with his own Padawan braid. While Katara's was decorated with beads and only three blue bands – showing her accomplishments in healing, telekinesis, and hand to hand combat – Aang's was layered in bands of all shades to the point where almost no hair showed at all. If there was a Jedi skill to master, he had already done it and years ahead of schedule.

It was pretty easy to hate him.

Zuko reminded himself of the four spare bands on his own braid – for academics and lightsaber fighting, but no Force skills – and set his mind back to his task. He wracked his brain, trying to think of a plausible story to lure Aang to the Senate building, but thankfully Aang's gregariousness took care of that for him.

"Do you want to spar, Zuko?"

"Yes," Zuko blurted.

Aang gave a small cheer, already drawing his lightsaber. While Zuko didn't have much contact with Aang generally, lightsaber dueling was the one thing they did together. Aang's technique needed work, to say the least. He was never aggressive enough.

"But not here," Zuko added. "At the Senate."

Aang shrugged, clipping his lightsaber back to his side, but Katara stepped forward, frowning at Zuko.

"Why would you spar at the Senate?"

"Well…" Zuko fumbled, trying to think of an excuse. "We won't be sparring. It's an exhibition. For my Senator. Tonight."

"I haven't heard of any exhibition."

"That's because you aren't invited," Zuko snapped. He tugged lightly on her braid with the Force. She clapped a hand against her face, pinning it down. Her breathing suddenly went even and deliberate, eyes unfocused as she tried to calm herself. "It's only for saber _masters_."

Aang perked up.

"I'm a master now?"

"Absolutely," Zuko said. He nodded toward the beaming Padawan, turning on his heel and tossing over his shoulder, "I'll see you in the speeder bay at 1700 and we'll go over together."

Zuko walked out onto the promenade outside the Room of a Thousand Fountains, stopping suddenly as his master's presence reasserted itself on their training bond. Among the serenely chatting Jedi, Iroh looked up, catching Zuko's gaze and holding it. He gulped down against his anxiety, fighting the urge to run as his master made his way over.

Iroh took Zuko by the arm, leading him into the starlight map room. His grip was strong and unyielding, echoing the unusually stern tenor of his Force presence.

The door to the room slid shut and Iroh let Zuko go, rounding on him.

"I know what you are doing, Padawan."

"Then stop me," Zuko hissed back. His hands flexed next to his lightsabers. He couldn't win, but fighting would be easier than facing his master's disappointment.

"Think about what will happen – to you, to the Jedi! Zuko, this is your home," Iroh said, eyes pleading.

"It's not! It never has been. You know they don't want me here, Master."

"I do," Iroh said. He stepped forward, putting his hand on Zuko shoulder.

Zuko drew away, shaking his head.

"It's not enough."

He was going home. He would stand at his father's side, the Chosen One defeated before them, and he would finally have a place to belong.


End file.
